


The type that sticks around

by jestbee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Smut, alternative universe, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: Dan will take what he can get
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 29
Kudos: 86





	The type that sticks around

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3am for no other reason than I wanted to. 
> 
> As a warning, the ending of this fic is unresolved. They don't get together, but neither do they stop what they are doing. The cheating is an affair between dnp while Phil has a SO. 
> 
> Thank you to Puddle for reading this and encouraging me to write the stories I want to write without worrying about whether it's something people want to read.
> 
> Title is from Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys

Phil's hand falls on Dan's knee as soon as the door at the end of the hall shuts. It doesn't always go like this, but Dan always rolls with it when it does.

The noise he makes is embarrassing. 

"Do you want her to come back out here?"

"Fuck off," Dan tells him. 

Phil's long, capable fingers are flicking open the button of Dan's jeans with the kind of practised ease Dan wishes was just for him. He'd take a moment to feel bad about it, usually, but Phil has his cock out and is bending his head to flick his tongue at the end of it so Dan banishes all self-pity to a part of his brain he'll use later. After.

Phil always sucks him like there's a time limit. There might as well be, with Dan's roommate down the hall and only around another half hour before Phil has to go home. But it means that his mouth is diligent, the suction hard and on the verge of too much, and that’s always been what does it for Dan in the end. 

He's not sure whether he likes it a bit rough for the thrill, or because that’s the way they've always done it and doing this with Phil formed a pretty big part of his formative sexual experiences. There's a kind of sense memory to the feeling of too-much at this point, an automatic response to Phil's teeth getting in the way because he's eager.

Whatever the reason, Dan makes another noise as Phil sinks down onto his cock and Phil shoves his fingers into Dan's mouth to shut him up. 

Dan shuts his eyes for a second, tasting the tang of Phil's skin when he lathes his tongue over the rough pads of his fingertips. He drops a hand to the top of Phil's head and digs his nails into Phil's scalp so that Phil moans around him. It isn't loud, because Phil has a better sense of self-preservation than Dan does, but it vibrates enough that Dan's hips buck and Phil has to relax his throat to take it. 

Dan knows he isn't the only person that Phil does this with. He knows Phil has a man at home who gets the benefit of his mouth, and that Dan only gets it in dark, secret moments. He thinks that he's the first person Phil had taken to bed outside of his relationship, but he can't be sure and it isn't the kind of thing he'll ever ask.

"It's nice," Phil had told him the first time when Dan had cried and told him it was a mistake because Phil had a life and Dan was the evil person who couldn't leave that alone. "It feels different with you."

Dan had let Phil wipe a thumb under each eye, calm and collected while Dan tried not to think of himself as a homewrecker. 

"You've always liked me," Phil had said. 

Dan had always liked him. Even though Phil came with another person, already a committed unit long before Dan appeared on the scene. But Dan had been greedy and selfish, and that hadn't mattered to him nearly as much as it should. Dan had liked him, and so now he takes what he can get.

Mostly, it’s video games and fond banter, the odd drink in a bar or coffee with friends, it's looking at Phil a bit too hard and him not doing it back and Phil going home without touching Dan inappropriately at all. 

But sometimes, sometimes it's this. 

Dan packs his questions about whether he's the only one Phil is fucking on the side into the same box as his bad feelings about it and firmly pushes it aside. He hasn't let it bother him for the last six months and he isn't about to start now, not when Phil's mouth is warm and wet and doing such a good job of sucking him down. 

Phil's shoulder is flexing, his free hand moving over his own cock. It's almost a shame that Dan can't get his mouth on it at the same time as Phil blows him, but that would require more contortion than they'd be capable of on the tiny sofa in Dan's flat, so he settles for hollowing his cheeks around Phil's fingers and making a quiet, insistent noise.

Maybe next time they get a hotel Dan will suggest it. Not that they ever get one exclusively for that purpose, but Phil's job means he travels around the country and Dan's means he's flexible enough to find himself on a train to whatever city Phil is staying in and knocking on a door paid for by Phil's boss. 

They haven't done it at Phil's house since that first time. Not that it's an experience he wants to repeat, exactly. He'd much rather keep it all separate, keep the messiness of it in the box and pretend that Phil comes to him fully formed and free. He prefers not having to acknowledge why they have to be in a different city and a different bed for Phil to spend the night afterwards. 

"Ah," Dan says, mouth open, Phil's fingers still on his tongue. 

Phil's hand falls, running a wet trail down over Dan's chin with his own saliva, he cups his fingers around Dan's balls and presses the damp pads of them to the sensitive spot behind. 

Dan wants more than that, he wants them inside of him, but this will do for now. For the quick, unexpected fumble while the movie still plays in the background. 

Dan keens, taking the trouble to keep quiet only because if Amélie comes back out here Phil might stop. 

When he comes, Phil doesn't even pause. They've done this enough times that Dan doesn't feel the need to warn him before it happens, and Phil swallows it down without a hint of surprise. 

Phil sucks him until Dan stops jerking, and then licks him clean before tucking him back into his boxers. 

"Come 'ere," Dan slurs, fuck-drunk and drowsy. 

He slips down the couch a bit so that Phil can stand and ease down his pants where his jeans are already unzipped, and then feed his cock between Dan's lips. Dan relaxes his jaw, makes his mouth wet and sloppy the way Phil likes it, relishing the way his cock stretches Dan's cheeks and bumps against his soft palate. He doesn't choke, even though Phil likes the noise when he does, just moves his tongue along the underside and bobs his head in time with the thrust of Phil's hips. 

Phil has a hand on the back of the couch for leverage, the muscles in his ass taut and his thighs shaking. His hair is a mess from Dan's grip and Dan has the fantasy of him leaving it like that, of him going home with his hair still a map of Dan's fingers, just one bit of evidence that Dan has been all over him. 

But he won't. Afterwards, Phil will comb his hair back into place, set his clothes to rights, and it will be as if everything that happened is erased. Phil will go home with no reminders, and Dan will cease to exist until the next time they are together. 

And even then, it might not end like this again. Any time could be their last because Phil is the one deciding these things.

Dan just takes what he can get. 

"Yeah," Phil whispers, "God you're so fucking— your _mouth_." 

Dan flushes under the praise. He likes that, likes that maybe Dan gives Phil something he doesn't get somewhere else. That Dan's mouth, or his ass, or anything else, is better somehow. If he can't be enough for Phil to want to leave everything else behind, at least he can be so good that he keeps coming back for more. 

Dan doubles his efforts, and soon Phil is coming down his throat with just as little warning as Dan had given him. Dan swallows and keeps sucking while Phil keeps moving his hips, working Phil through all the aftershocks and then a tiny bit longer, until Phil has had enough and he pulls back.

He presses his thumb to the centre of Dan's lip, swiping away a drop of himself lingering there, and then sucks the pad of it into his mouth. He doesn't look away, and Dan maintains the silent eye contact, running his tongue over his own swollen lips for the remaining taste. 

The room is quiet. Now that it's over, Dan realises just how much noise they must have been making and for a brief moment he wonders if Amélie knows, or at least suspects. She must wonder why Phil spends evenings here with them instead of at home. Isn't that what normal, happy people do?

Is Phil happy with how things are? Dan has never thought to ask.

"You want to rewind?" Dan says. His voice sounds rough, a little used. He picks up the remote and waits for Phil to sit down because Dan is made up of denial and the lies he tells himself. 

"I gotta get going," Phil replies, already running a hand through his hair. 

Dan nods, burying the shame of his hope along with everything else. 

Phil smiles, leans over to kiss Dan firmly on the mouth. That is a rare enough occurrence that Dan gasps and tries to hide it. 

"You're great," Phil tells him. "My best friend, really." 

Dan gathers himself to his feet. He does the zipper back up on his jeans and turns the TV off so that the room descends into pitch black.

"You're my best friend too," Dan tells him.

Somehow, the words come easier in the dark.

He walks Phil to the door. He doesn't need to because Phil knows the layout of his flat, but he does it anyway. Phil puts a hand against Dan's shoulder for a brief second and makes plans to grab coffee with him in a few days, but he doesn't kiss him again. 

They say goodnight, and then Phil is gone. 

When Dan lays in bed much later, turning it over, he feels the familiar chill of guilt rising in the pit of his stomach. The box with everything packed tightly into it groans and shakes and threatens to spill. He always tells himself he'll take it all out, spread out his various crimes for examination and deal with the shame and the mixed-up feelings that go along with them, but he never does. 

Instead, he packs this guilt in alongside the rest, turns the key to keep them all at bay. Later, he tells himself, he can deal with it all later.

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr if you like](https://jestbee.tumblr.com/post/621987908733239296/the-type-that-sticks-around)


End file.
